


Visitations

by prairiecrow



Series: Visitations [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Difference, Ass Play, Dominance, Established Relationship, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Massage, Nipple Play, Safe Sane and Consensual, Secret Relationship, Submission, Testicle Spanking, bite marking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian didn't seem too alarmed when Garak showed up in his quarters in the middle of the night during the episode "Cardassians". Why not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Set before, during and after the S2 episode "Cardassians".  
> 2) Mentions acts of rape performed by Cardassians during the Occupation of Bajor (in passing, not explicitly).  
> 3) With props to airandangels, writer of some of the best G/B stuff ever IMO, for a couple of her phrases which make an appearance in this fic. Particulars available on request (or if she wants me to post them).

It took a couple of seconds for the sound of the door whispering open to penetrate Julian's light contented sleep, but when it did he stiffened, flipped over onto his back and propped himself up on both elbows. He was surprised to find Garak standing at the foot of his bed wearing a slight mysterious smile — but certainly not alarmed, and even the surprise wasn't as great as it might have been.

After all, it wasn't as if Garak hadn't pulled this particular trick before. Fourteen times in fact, counting this evening, although usually Julian woke up to find him already sitting on the edge of the bed and using one cool grey hand to — 

"Come, Doctor," Garak said softly. "Get dressed. We need to be going."

Julian scowled at him, puzzled that he wasn't being asked to divest himself of clothing instead. "Going?" he repeated. "Going where?" 

"To Bajor." Garak's tone was gentle and his patient smile remained. Looking at it, Julian felt his shoulders slump.

"So you're not here to…?"

"I'm afraid not." The smile widened fractionally. "Not this time."

********************************************

As friends-with-benefits relationships went it was a little strange, but its clandestine nature and the mysterious smoulder of it all was perfectly in keeping with Garak's character and Julian followed his lead in not referring to it at any other time. Lying on his back in his bed and gasping under the expert ministrations of the Cardassian's hands and mouth, Julian sometimes found himself reflecting that this was exactly how a top-level spy would make love: in the shadows, in secret and in complete control of the situation, even to the extent of remaining seated on the edge of the bed fully clothed while his Human partner was panting and naked. Not that Julian really minded. Usually he was the one who tried to be so masterful with the ladies: it was something of a relief to be the submissive party for a change... and furtively thrilling and more than a little hot, especially when Garak slipped a finger inside his ass and did things to his prostate gland that should have been illegal.

Nor had Garak ever pushed for genital penetration, although Julian had ended up licking and sucking his ridged cock a few times and had developed quite a taste for it. In fact his own climax never seemed to be the point of the exercise: when he let Julian perform fellatio on him it was always at Julian's request and permission was not always given, and even when it was he didn't inevitably let Julian get him off. Which all came back to being in control, Julian supposed, and maintaining the power dynamic between them — it was perfectly all right for Julian to end up thrashing and whimpering and making a mess of the bedclothes, but he witnessed Garak's physically restrained orgasms seldom enough that the privilege felt like a gift. Was this a culturally approved way that older Cardassian males related to younger males? None of the literature Garak had loaned him thus far referred to sexual paradigms between men in that society and he didn't want to risk spoiling their arrangement by pressing for details. 

And besides, when it came right down to it did it really matter if Cardassia lacked a long and venerable history of tailors showing up unannounced in the middle of the night to inflict delicious sexual torments on the object of their interest? It was how Garak operated, and Julian could accept that, although it had been quite a shock the first time he'd snapped awake out of a sound sleep to find someone standing at the foot of his bed, silently watching him. For a couple of heartbeats he'd doubted the evidence of his own eyes — the figure was perfectly still, not even emitting the slight hiss of breathing — until the general pattern of the man's body resolved itself in the strange half-light coming from the night cycle panels and Julian had realized who had entered his quarters:

********************************************  
********************************************

SIX MONTHS AGO

" _Garak?_ " 

A familiar flash of white teeth. "Ah, good evening, Doctor! I trust you slept well?"

Still shaking off sleep, Julian stared at him without speaking for several seconds. At last he found words: "How the… how did you… what are you  _doing_  here?"

"You left the door to your quarters unlocked." Garak moved up the right side of the bed and sat down on its edge, forcing Julian to scootch over a little to provide room for his hip — the mattresses on DS9, even for senior officers, were impractically narrow. He might as well have been gliding on air for all the sound his boots made on the carpet. "You really should be more careful. What if I'd been a thief, or someone intent on doing you harm?" He shook his head sadly, then wagged a reproving finger. "Constable Odo would be  _very_  disappointed in you."

Julian looked up at him, mouth slightly open. Another thought had occurred to him, a frankly appalling one: "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to observe that you frequently smile in your sleep." The right side of Garak's face, the one illuminated by the yellow glow from the panels, turned kindly. "Never fear, your secret is safe with me."

"Garak." He had to gain control of this conversation. The sheets had slid down around his waist; he tugged them up to chest level with one hand, trying not to be too obvious about it. He was wearing his usual pajamas but somehow he felt very vulnerable, almost naked. "The Constable wouldn't be very happy to find out you've been visiting my quarters in the middle of the night either — without my permission, I might add."

Cardassians had no eyebrows to raise, but Garak did a passable equivalent. "Are you going to tell him I'm here?"

"I —" Regulations dictated that he do exactly that: get the computer's attention and have it summon a security team immediately, considering that Garak had somehow circumvented the station's systems in order to get in here in the first place. "No, I'm not. What's this all about?"

The quality of Garak's smile changed hardly at all, but suddenly it was the embodiment of predatory instinct. He leaned a couple of centimetres closer, his voice falling to a silky whisper: "What if I told you that I need your assistance in another covert operation? One that can't wait until the morning — I need your help  _now_ , this instant."

Instantly Julian was fully awake, his heart leaping in his chest. The incident with Tahna Los was less than three months in the past and he never remembered it without a thrill of excitement. He sat up in bed, almost face to face with the spy, and tried not to look too eager. The sheet fell back to his waist once more. "Really? Right now? Of course, whatever you —"

The words froze in his throat. Garak was looking at him in a way that completely focussed his attention: he'd always known that Garak's eyes were blue, but he'd never before realized how intense that color was, like a clear winter sky at high altitudes. How had he failed to notice that over the table they'd been sharing at the Replimat for the past ten weeks? He was in closer proximity to the Cardassian than he'd ever been, separated by a mere hand's-breadth, close enough to see the finest details of the scaling around his eyes and down the line of his jaw even in the dimness. Then Garak reached up with his right hand and pressed the tips of his index and middle fingers to the bare skin just above the V of Julian's pajama top with great delicacy; Julian's breath suspended as they traced a leisurely little circle, cool against his warmer mammalian flesh, and then touched the pressure closure of the top and slowly began to pull it down.

That freed him from his paralysis. "Garak!" It was a startled yelp, not sophisticated in the least. He jumped back a couple of centimetres, unabashedly wide-eyed. "What are you  _doing?_ "

Garak's hand remained where it was, poised mid-air, and he blinked at the younger Human, cocking his head slightly. "I should think that would be obvious."

"You're — " Even his enhanced brain couldn't process _this_ turn of events fast enough. Staring into Garak's face, which now looked serene with an underlying nuance of impatience, Julian quested back in his memory for anything that might explain this sudden sexual overture — because it  _was_  a sexual overture, he had not the slightest doubt. He came up with a number of equivalent instances, including the first time he'd met Garak, the insinuating glide of that velvet voice and the sly pressure of grey hands on his shoulders, and many subsequent smiles and glances that he'd written off as Garak trying to play games with him… but now things were being taken to the next level and he had no idea why.

In the middle of the night, after an act of unlawful entry, when he was half-asleep and —

More troubling memories flooded his mind, of the reports he'd read before coming to Bajor — accounts of Cardassian atrocities, many of them sexual — and he tensed, watching Garak with sudden wariness as he readied himself to take defensive action to protect his — 

Garak sighed, almost as if he'd been expecting such a reaction but was disappointed by it nonetheless. "Doctor." He reached down and laid his right hand over Julian's left where it braced him upright on the mattress, the pressure light but firm. The contact of skin on skin was unexpectedly electric. "If you want me to leave, you have only to say so." Those bright eyes searched Julian's face and the smile returned, subtle yet knowing. "But I don't think you do. Shall I…?" And he pulled back slightly, watching Julian closely.

The sensible answer, of course, was:  _Yes, now get the hell out of my quarters!_ Julian opened his mouth to unleash it only to discover that here, as always, the rules of normal conduct bent around Garak like light waves in the proximity of a black hole singularity. Dear God, Sisko would have his balls for even considering fraternizing with a Cardassian expatriate, much less a Cardassian expatriate _spy_ … but the air between them seemed to vibrate with dark energy, ramped to an almost intolerable frequency where the weight of Garak's hand covered his. What emerged was a short strangled exhalation and a little gasp: "Uh…" 

Garak waited, still wearing that enigmatic smile, while Julian gathered his scattered wits — a task made much harder by the distracting throb between his legs. Now where had that come from? He'd never found men particularly attractive. At last he said: "… No. I mean, I don't… I mean yes, yes, you can stay, but —" He knew that the gaze he offered now was pleading but he couldn't help himself: Garak had never provided him with easy answers, that was part of what intrigued him about this cunning man, but right now he needed some clear sense of direction.

"Good." Julian had never heard that much sexual significance packed into a single syllable. The caressing cadence of Garak's voice thrilled up his spine, tingling over the nape of his neck and filling his cock with a pulse of hardening heat. "Now that we've got that settled," and he leaned in again, the weight of the tension between them pushing Julian down without the Cardassian having to touch him at all, "just lie back — there's a good boy — and do  _exactly_  as I tell you."

Now flat on the mattress, Julian looked up into Garak's cold yet merry eyes and tried not to swallow audibly. He felt like he was about to take a step off of a ledge into a fall of unknown distance, with no concept of what might lie at the bottom of the drop. Again he remembered the words of so many Bajoran women attesting to the violence and brutality of Cardassian mating practices, and he tried to infuse his gaze with stern warning. "I won't stand for being roughly treated. If you —"

Garak startled him by laughing, briefly but brightly. "You think I've come here to  _rape_  you?" Suddenly the laughter was gone, replaced with an expression as serious as any Julian had ever seen on him, and he laid his right hand on the side of Julian's neck, tracing the line of the Human's pulse with his thumb. "My dear Doctor, if that was what I wanted, I assure you I wouldn't be wasting time with conversation." The hand slid down to his shoulder and Garak leaned in; Julian closed his eyes, but the spy stopped just short of kissing him. Cool breath whispered over Julian's lips: "Your cooperation means nothing to me if it is forced. You know," and he shifted up a little to finally press a gentle kiss to Julian's cheekbone, "I've always wondered if you were this delightfully smooth all over…"

Julian had thought he was fully awake. He discovered now how wrong he'd been. Suddenly his whole body was alive, his quickening pulse beating in his groin and his lips and the very tips of his fingers. He reached up to wind his arms around Garak and pull the stocky body down into his arms, but quick as a snake Garak caught hold of his wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of his pillow. " _No_ , Julian."

"Oh, come on!" He tried to keep the ripple of nervous laughter out of his voice and failed. "That's not fair!"

"Did I ever promise to be fair?" His grip was firm, his expression rebuking. "Now, are you going to be good?"

"I'd be even better if you let me use my hands." Ah, there was the seductive purr he knew he was capable of, but it didn't seem to impress Garak.

"That's not what this is about." There was an element of command in his tone and his bearing that Julian automatically wanted to challenge… but part of him also wanted to obey, if only to see where this was going. The submissive part won out when Garak leaned down to whisper in his ear: "But this once, I'll be merciful and tell you what's going to happen next. You're going to lie back and let me strip you of these dreadful pajamas — I really must make you a new set in silk, something more suitable for all this sweet golden skin — and then you're going to let me explore every inch of you that takes my fancy. You'll be permitted to be as vocal as you like but you must keep your hands where I've put them and accept whatever I choose to do to you, without question. I promise you that I will never truly harm you, although there may be times when you'll be begging me to stop. If you —"

A bit breathlessly, Julian interrupted: "What about a safe word?" 

That gave Garak pause. "A 'safe word'?" He sounded as if the concept was entirely new to him and he was highly sceptical about it, so Julian pushed ahead without waiting for permission.

"It sounds like you want to engage in dominance/submission play —" He paused, but Garak did not deny the charge, so he continued: "— and we'll need a way to distinguish between my saying  _No! Ah! No!_  and really meaning  _Yes!_ , and my saying  _NO!_  and actually meaning  _No._  A safe word is one way to ensure that the message is always clear. It's a word or phrase that normally wouldn't come up in the course of sex, one that's so out of context that it's immediately recognizable as meaning that I want to stop whatever it is we're doing."

A pause while Garak seemed to consider the matter. "What a curious notion — and how very clinical of you. I don't suppose I should be surprised though. After all, you  _are_  a doctor… so what you're saying is that you want some degree of control over what's going to happen?"

"Yes, that's right."

He sounded genuinely puzzled: "But where's the fun in that?"

"If you don't want to harm me, you'll respect my right to feel comfortable with… whatever it is we end up doing." His mouth was very close to the aural ridges running down Garak's jawline from his ear; he leaned up a little to apply his lips to the scales and whisper more seductively: "If it's any consolation, I'm more than willing to trust your abilities as an instructor. I promise I won't use the safe word unless it's absolutely necessary." He punctuated the sentiment with a teasing flicker of his tonguetip along the lower ridge. "All right?"

Garak's grip on his wrists tightened a little. "Very well." Julian got the distinct impression he was amused. "So if I'm roughly stroking your pretty cock, paying special attention to the head, and you cry out  _LATINUM!_  at the top of your lungs, shall I assume that you want me to stop?"

Even amused, he had a sexier voice than any Julian could recall of the top of his head. The mental picture those murmured words brought to mind — heat, pressure, friction, a delicious edge of pain,  _oh God that's so good don't stop!_  — made light sweat break out over his entire body, and he whispered back: "If you're stroking my cock like that, I'd say you can do whatever the hell you feel like. But yes, that's a good suitable word. Very mercantile. I don't think either of us will have it in mind unless —"

Garak bit the side of his neck — and not gently, either. He yelped again, wondering who had set up a string connecting that particular patch of skin to his erection, which leaped eagerly inside his pajama bottoms. It was lying against his stomach now, pressed to one side a bit by the waistband of the pajamas but still in a prominent position to be fondled even through the fabric. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes. 

"All right," he whispered, forcing himself to relax. "I'll… be good, I promise." To hell with the thousand questions he should have been asking; to hell with the ethical and technical issues of how Garak had gotten in here in the first place; to hell with everything, for that matter, except what the man currently pressing him into the mattress was going to do next. When it came right down to it this moment, which should have felt all kinds of wrong, had an undeniable quality of rightness about it. It was perfectly in character for Garak and… well, even an hour ago Julian would have denied that it was in character for him, but obviously it was, because he was letting it happen, wasn't he? 

As Garak finally,  _finally_  kissed him full on the mouth, hands running over his forearms with masterful force — pressing him down, ordering him to submit without saying a word — Julian spared one final thought to wonder if there was anything he wouldn't let Garak do to him, safe word or no.

He suspected that he was about to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

For a span of time measured only by Julian's increasingly quickened breathing there was nothing but leisurely kisses, and slow hands exploring the outlines of his pajama-clad body from his jawline to his knees (tugging down the sheets and skimming over his belly and hips but never touching him where he wanted to be touched most), and the struggle to keep his own hands, now clenched into the thin pillow, exactly where they were. When the Cardassian's tongue finally tapped against Julian's slightly parted teeth with a serpentine flutter — there, gone, there again — he opened his mouth to welcome it and found it rougher in texture than a Human's, or perhaps it was simply that it was a man's tongue rather than a woman's that accounted for the difference. He'd only kissed another male once in his life, back in his final year of secondary school when he'd been curious about sex in general, and he certainly didn't remember Brian Kemper's tongue being this cool or this agile, gliding against his and pulling him deeper. 

Garak… this was  _Garak_ who was doing this to him. The thought was mildly stunning and should have been intensely disturbing but as the Cardassian's hands slid back up over his ribs to dip light fingertips his armpits, making him squirm a little, Julian found himself getting more hot and bothered by the second. "Mmph." He broke the kiss only to have Garak capture his mouth again, which was delicious but not quite what he was going for. "Garak —" Another kiss, this one even more devouring, a slow thorough penetration that took his breath away. Those broad hands were curved around his neck and jawline now, holding him steady for the sensual assault. He managed a gasp: "— _Garak!_ "

The spy sat back up to look him in the eyes, and he appeared exasperated. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to order you to be quiet?" he whispered with a soft inflection that managed to be more menacing than sharper words would have been. "Or perhaps fit you with a gag?"

Panting slightly and doing his best to ignore the not-so-subtle thrill that threat prompted in parts south, Julian countered: "I thought you said I could be as vocal as I liked."

"What I had in mind was something along the lines of sighing and moaning and pleading for more, if you must know." He studied Julian's face for a moment, then sighed. "Well?"

"Why are you doing this?" It was a graceless question, blurted out between one breath and the next, but it had to be asked.

Garak observed him for several seconds. Just when Julian was beginning to suspect that he was going to stand up and go into the living area and come back with the promised gag (which of course, being Garak, he'd had lying in wait all along), he sighed a third time, this one conveying both fondness and exasperation, and gave Julian a tiny gentle shake that nonetheless managed to imply just how strong his grasp could be. "Surely," he chided, "you don't expect me to believe that you don't realize how enticing you truly are?"

"Um." Strange, he'd never found physical strength a particular turn-on before, but now it was making him so aroused he could barely think straight. "But… now? Like this? In the middle of the night?"

Garak released the left side of Julian's throat and started to open the closure to his pajama top again, watching each inch of skin as it was revealed. "Would you have preferred a more direct approach?"

"I, uh…" 

"An engraved letter of intent, perhaps?  _My very dear Doctor Bashir, I will be in your quarters at precisely 01:45 this evening to shamelessly fondle you, please RSVP by 15:00 to ensure —_ "

"You could have come by at 23:00 and found me awake!"

There was the smile that Julian knew too well, the one that strongly suggested that Garak loved leading him around in circles. "Ah, but I wouldn't have found you so conveniently clad, now would I?" The closure was at Julian's navel and steadily slipping lower. "You're not wearing underwear, are you?"

"I — no!" His cock gave an eager not-so-little twitch within the confines of his pants, a movement doubtless plainly visible from Garak's angle. 

"Then you see my point."

"I…" He knew his eyes were probably somewhat glazed as he stared up at his friend, who was still wearing an enigmatic smirk as he finished opening the pajama top and neatly spread it to fold away on either side of Julian's torso. For a long moment he surveyed the expanse of smooth flesh, his smile becoming even less easy to interpret. 

"How strange," he remarked, "that an absence of ridges could be so attractive." He brought both hands to the top of the Human's trapezius muscles and began an unhurried exploration of the caramel skin that now lay vulnerable before him, stroking across his shoulders and down over his flat pectorals. Julian let his head fall back and closed his eyes and resisted the urge to scream from several different kinds of frustration —

— only to be effectively distracted when Garak ran the pad of his thumb experimentally over his flat left nipple. The return pass caught against a nub of hardening flesh. "Well now, isn't  _that_  curious?" he remarked with earnest delight. "It looks so eager! Mm." He removed his thumb and leaned down and inclined his head, and Julian hissed as he lapped delicately at the sensitive little peak, then took it between his teeth.

"Careful!" He tensed with anticipation that wasn't entirely pleasant: recent experience and the reports he'd read agreed that aroused Cardassians tended to bite. Garak, however, settled for an admonishing murmur and a nip that sent a wash of hot electricity over the skin of Julian's torso, followed by a more mammalian tactic of licking and suckling it. Julian found himself trying not to squirm: his nipples had always been susceptible to that sort of stimulation, responding with flashes of almost maddening intensity, and Garak seemed determined to pay thorough attention to one before shifting across to the other. Remembering the Cardassian's statement about what was permitted in terms of expression, Julian gave himself free rein to pant and moan and mildly blaspheme and make it quite clear that he liked what was being done to him. When he started to slowly writhe Garak caught hold of his waist and pinned him in place with strength that was no longer hidden, making his groin pulse with even greater urgency: with considerable difficulty he restrained himself from starting to chant commands that Garak strip off his pajama bottoms and get down to real business. Somehow he suspected that such a demand would not be well received even if his erection  _did_  feel like it was burning its way through the fabric that imprisoned it.

By the time Garak raised his head again his own breathing had audibly deepened and his voice had a subtly roughened quality that Julian found almost unbearably sexy: "Such exquisite sensitivity! It makes me most eager to see what else you're capable of."

"Oh, God…." He was shivering finely all over, from nothing more than being kissed and half-undressed and having his nipples played with. Where the hell had  _this_  been all his life? "Please…"

Garak's hands slid down to the waistband of his pants and hooked into it and began to slip them down over Julian's hips. "I really should play with you a good deal longer," he murmured against the golden skin over his heart, "just to pay you back for those lunches when you had I'danian spice pudding and licked your spoon so indecently."

"I didn't —" The fingers pulling down his pants stopped moving, and it only took Julian a couple of seconds to catch onto the game. "Yes. Spice pudding. Completely indecent. I'm  _so_  ashamed of myself." He infused his voice with a note of plaintive hope. "Punish me?"

A pause. Garak straightened his back again. Staring up into those suddenly serious eyes, seeing the darkness unveiled there, Julian felt a cold spike of instinctive fear: the memories of old deeds were clear to be read, of episodes when the man currently touching him in the service of pleasure had used his hands for tasks far less salutary. It was like reaching out in the night and encountering the lithe slither of an unexpected rattlesnake — but no, not entirely unexpected, he'd always known that Garak was dangerous, and wasn't that part of the excitement? Julian's cock certainly seemed to think so. His mouth opened again, the word  _latinum!_  on the tip of his tongue, but it got lost somewhere between the backbeat of his lust and the way Garak was looking at him, dominant and possessive and awakening a part of Julian that must have always been there, the part that was aching to know just how far he could be taken.

"Punish you?" The spy's voice was almost tender. He reached up with his left hand and ran his fingers deep into the hair on the crown of Julian's head, then closed them tightly and pulled back, forcing him to arch his neck. Startled by the mild pain, Julian gasped, then hissed as Garak leaned down and applied sharp teeth to his throat: under the line of his jaw first, relatively lightly, then harder on the ridge of the sternocleidomastoid muscle.  _That's going to leave a mark,_  he thought dazedly as Garak's other hand shifted to just left of his erection and finished its work with the waistband, allowing his throbbing shaft to spring free at last. Garak continued to murmur and bite as he pulled the bottoms down to mid-thigh: "Of course I will! — You  _are_ — a very naughty boy — which is why —"  _Bite_ , making Julian emit an unseemly high-pitched whimper, "you're going to enjoy it so much."

"I — uh — oh!…" Garak's hand was exploring his inner thighs now, a touch that felt like the savouring caress of a fine kid leather glove. He opened his legs as wide as the constriction of the pajama's waist would permit and gave a passing thought to controlling his breathing, which was exiting his mouth and nose in undignified little gasps. That resolution went out the window with a groan when Garak finally moved in to cradle his balls in the palm of his hand. 

"And what have we here?" Pressure. A little squeeze. Julian nearly levitated off the mattress. "They feel rather delicate."

"They are." He could feel his thigh muscles quivering with an intoxicating blend of eagerness and apprehension. His grip on the pillow tightened. "And also very — mm! — sensitive."

Garak purred deep in his throat, still nuzzling at Julian's neck as he rubbed the Human's testicles — then spanked them lightly but sharply with the flat of his hand. Julian actually saw stars as his legs instinctively snapped closed, trapping Garak's hand against his groin. " _Ah! Careful!_ "

"Thighs open." The words were velvet; the undercurrent was steel. 

He couldn't be serious. Surely not. "Garak —"

"Need I remind you that you promised to be good?" He brought his lips to Julian's ear, his breath a warm hiss that sent tingles down the Human's spine: "Or are you going to make me tie you to the bed in the proper position?"

It took three or four heartbeats for Julian to come to the conclusion that he was almost certainly dead serious — and that the gag  _was_  out there in his living room, along with enough rope to effectively subdue him. The initial sting of pain in his testicles had become a warmer glow that spread upward into his belly and infused his erection with a heat he'd never experienced before, keen and shameful and incredibly intriguing. He'd never been one for this sort of sexual game, either giving or receiving, but of course he knew about them and he knew that the release of endorphins in response to the selective application of painful stimulation could be intensely pleasurable, at least in theory…

 _Where did he learn how to do this?_  It was a pointless question, Garak had never given him a straight answer to anything, but this new hint of a very dark past did nothing to quell his deep physical hunger. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He opened his thighs and felt Garak's smile against the shell of his right ear: "Yes, just like that." More caressing and another spank, a little harder than the first. "There there, my dear…" And again. "Excellent! Good boy." Another. Julian was moaning unabashedly, amazed and thrilled and deeply humiliated all at the same time. If anyone ever so much as suspected… "Only a little tonight — you've never done this before, have you?" He managed to shake his head in spite of Garak's fingers still locked into his hair. Garak's voice fell to a soothing croon as he released Julian's balls and returned to slowly stroking his thighs. "Of course you haven't. Your innocence is like an alluring perfume, simply begging to be ruined."

Well, there was the  _why_  Julian had been looking for — or one possible explanation, at any rate. He wasn't really up for considering all the intricate possibilities of Garak's motivation at the moment, not in the face of the rapidly growing conviction that if Garak didn't touch him  _there_ , right  _now_ , he was going to go mad. He turned his head to the right, ignoring the sting of his hair as it pulled against Garak's grasp, in a futile attempt to capture his mouth in a kiss of hungry desperation. His lips had barely brushed the cool grey cheek before Garak was gone, pulling up and back to look down at him with a sort of solicitous mockery. 

"Yes?" The innocence of his tone was infuriating; Julian bit back a frustrated obscenity and found himself groping for something to say besides  _Oh God please wrap your hand around my cock and stroke me off!_ , which was too damned abject to be considered.

Garak smiled like the Cheshire Cat, and Julian, for one insane second, considered yelling the safe word just to break the tension, which had gone from bearable to unbearable in the course of a single sentence.  _Ruined._  All his life he had been the good son, the golden boy, the paragon of Starfleet honor and virtue — and at this moment all he wanted to be was a wanton slut at the mercy of an enemy agent, pleading for mercy, pleading for  _more_. It was untenable. It was impossible. It was unthinkable at the deepest level.

 _This is all a dream. I'll wake up in the morning with a stain on the front of my pajamas and memories I'll try my level best to forget, because this isn't who I am. This isn't —_

"I need…" He had a deeper level yet, evidently. "Please, Garak… please, touch me — there, the way you said you would." The blush of disgrace on his cheeks was not enough to silence him. "I swear I won't fight it.  _Please_. You promised… didn't you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Garak laughed softly, a low throaty sound quite unlike anything Julian had ever heard from him before. It implied both indulgence and menace. "My dear Doctor, I haven't promised you a thing." He tightened his grip in Julian's hair and Julian couldn't suppress a hopeful whimper, even though Garak's other hand had slid down his inner thigh in exactly the opposite direction from what he wanted. "It seems to me, however, that you owe  _me_  a considerable debt. I've been very patient with you these last several weeks, wouldn't you agree? Listening to your naive theories about Human literature and indulging your passion for endless argument…"

"Do you want me to suck your cock?" The words came out in a whispered rush and he closed his eyes, unable to look the Cardassian in the face after such a blatant and startling admission of need.

The smile was still in Garak's voice. "A generous, if rather crude, offer — but no, Julian, that's not what I'm asking of you." His hand settled just above the pajama's waistband, mid-thigh, caressing the caramel skin as softly as if Julian were a skittish cat. "What I want is your  _obedience_ , beautiful boy. It's a simple trade, really: submission in exchange for pleasure and instruction of an entirely different kind."

"I —" An awful thought occurred to him and he blinked, gazing wide-eyed at Garak's enigmatic smirk. "I won't betray my oaths to Starfleet! If it's secrets you're looking for —"

"Secrets?" Another chuckle and a wider grin. "What an amusing notion. Though I must confess," and he raked suddenly sharp nails hard along the tender skin, "that torturing you  _is_  part of my agenda."

Julian's eyes snapped closed again and he shuddered from the nape of his neck to his knees, the sensation of pressure in his testicles and the head of his penis ratcheting up another notch. He was so close — it wouldn't take much at all — he wanted to scream  _Touch me there, damn you! Claw me if you must!_  Bite _me!_ , but his open mouth couldn't seem to form coherent words under the burden of the tight urgency pulsing in his groin.

"My poor child!" The words were as sympathetic as the stroking of his fingertips over the scratches he'd just made, filling Julian with white-hot waves of eager dread. He bent to whisper again into his ear: "Never fear, Julian. You have nothing I desire in that regard. What I'm asking for is something less tangible than information and far rarer than mere capitulation." 

"Wh…" He turned his head and this time Garak permitted the contact of his lips, soft and worshipful, against the line of hard aural scales. Definitely not himself at all. "What do you want…?"

"Surrender." The word sounded darker than any Julian had ever heard in his life, setting off a flash of impossible radiance behind his closed eyes. "Everything, and nothing at all. No thought. No resistance." The rise and fall of his voice was persuasive, hypnotic, even as his hand finally ran up over Julian's scrotum and closed around his erection and pumped to the cadence of his words: "Nothing… but…  _this_." A glide, a twist, a squeeze on the burning head, and Julian erupted with a desperate sob, arching off the bed, soiling his own stomach and chest with spurt after spurt of sticky white semen. 

Garak had done so little to him really, yet the climax seemed to go on forever. When it was at last over he sank back in utter disarray, panting against Garak's cheekbone and not giving a damn for his pride, his dignity or anything other than the marvellous languor filling every reach of his body. He became aware that Garak had bitten the side of his neck when he came and was now licking the sore spot, where the quality of the throbbing suggested that he'd be wearing a fine bruise come the morning. He turned his head to the left a little, offering the Cardassian easier access, and sighed from the depths of his belly. "Ohhhhh… my  _God_ , that was…"

Garak's answering murmur was full of pride and contentment: "Magnificent!" His grip on Julian's hair finally relaxed, becoming the warm comfort of a hand cupping the back of his head, and he sat up; out of the corner of his vision Julian could see him gazing down, smiling fondly at what was doubtless a rather appealing spectacle. He leaned close to Julian's sternum and drew a deep breath, as if savouring the scent of the drops of cum gleaming on the golden skin, before tasting one with a delicate flicker of his tonguetip, prompting a bleary moan from the thoroughly drained Human. "From the moment I first saw you I knew that you had the potential to be an exemplary student. And you haven't disappointed me. Although," and he delivered a tiny admonishing bite to Julian's right nipple as his hand performed a final slow stroke on his fading erection, "we'll have to work on teaching you to ask for permission before letting yourself go. That was  _very_  naughty, my dear."

"Mm." He didn't have energy for anything more elaborate, or the wherewithal to wipe the silly smile from his face, or the willpower to resist when Garak released his softening penis and took hold of his hip and gently turned his pelvis enough to gain access to his naked bottom.

"And I've neglected to pay proper attention to these." He played with Julian's buttocks for a moment — stroking, scratching, lightly squeezing, administering a little slap to the lower curve — and Julian whimpered again, his spent cock stirring and trying to thicken. "Ah, well. Next time."

"Garak…" It occurred to him how little he'd given in return and he started to let go of the pillow, only to catch himself. He was learning. "May I touch you now? Please?"

"Not tonight." A final rub and Garak pulled away and rose from the bed, to stand over Julian's panting half-naked spunk-splattered body looking as neat and well-groomed and serene as if the last ten minutes had never happened. His smile was back to being kind as he reached down and laid his hand against the right side of Julian's face. "Perhaps another time, if you behave yourself."

Julian gazed at him in disbelief before sinking his head back on the pillow and groaning softly. "Bloody hell…!"

"Which, I scarcely need to say, includes keeping this strictly between ourselves." He waited until Julian nodded his acquiescence before running his thumb along the Human's lower lip and rewarding him with a brilliant flash of sharp teeth. "Good boy," he praised, then withdrew his hand and turned away toward the door leading to the living room. "Oh, and Julian…?"

Julian raised his head and stared after him, unable to believe that he was actually leaving. "Yes?" he replied, trying to keep the note of hope out of his voice.

Garak paused in front of the door as it whispered open and glanced back. "Don't straighten up your clothes. I want you to sleep like that tonight and wake up that way in the morning." This time his smile managed to be both wicked and solicitous. "So that you'll know this hasn't been a dream."

Julian's eyes drifted closed; he felt like he was floating, rapidly descending toward exhausted sleep. Was there anything Garak didn't see about him? Even things so hidden that he'd never caught a glimpse of them himself? His head fell back and he managed to mumble something like an assent; then the door whispered closed and he knew that Garak was gone as mysteriously as he'd come, leaving behind, as usual, far more questions than answers.

********************************************

When his alarm sounded the following morning and he rolled out of bed, almost stumbling over the pajama bottoms halfway down his thighs, he still couldn't believe it until he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and saw the bite-shaped bruises on his neck. 

He spent the next few days debating whether or not to inform Odo of what had occurred. A breach of security that major… he couldn't just let it go, could he? But Garak hadn't harmed him: quite the opposite, in fact. And he had no desire to see the Cardassian tailor, who had become the closest thing he had to a friend on this station, locked up in a cell for a crime no greater than giving him one of the better orgasms of his life. 

So he kept the incident to himself, as instructed. When he passed Garak on the Promenade they exchanged a smile and a nod, nothing more, and their conversation when next they met for lunch was, to an outsider, entirely innocent… but deep inside Julian a little flame of anticipation began to burn, for Garak had promised that there would be a next time. Even the arrival of Q on the station, together with his lovely companion Vash, didn't entirely erase that prospect from Julian's mind. 

And then, twelve days after Garak's midnight visit, he came back to his quarters after a late shift in the Infirmary to find a curious surprise awaiting him.

[TO BE CONTINUED…]


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains spoilers for the episode "The Passenger".

He entered his bedroom yawning, eyes half-closed, and in consequence it took him a couple of seconds to realize that there was something white and rectangular in the centre of his bed. Approaching it, he saw that it was a flat box clad in pale watered satin, the texture so appealing that he ran his fingertips over it for a couple of seconds before sitting down on the bed and actually opening it up. What lay inside made his breath catch in his throat: a mass of liquid royal blue, cool and sleek under his fingers, which he lifted out to reveal as a pair of silk pajamas cut to exactly his size. 

In his memory a voice awoke and whispered:  _I really must make you a new set in silk, something more suitable for all this sweet golden skin…_

Garak! It had to be. The style featured playful intercuts of material typical of the tailor's aesthetic, and as Julian eagerly spread the gorgeous mass of cloth out on his mattress he saw that the neck was cut low in the Cardassian style so as to leave his throat fully accessible and that the pants had a slender drawstring, easy to untie and pull open with a tug of a finger. The fabric moved like wearable water, so magnificently sensuous that he rose to his feet and started stripping off his uniform and his underwear, overcome by the need to feel it against his skin immediately. Once he had it on it was fully as glorious as he had imagined, a whole-body caress that sent a shiver up his spine — and down again, making him thicken and lift. The thought of Garak fondling him through it, of those clever dove-grey hands opening up the fabric and slipping inside, only hastened the process.

He quickly set the box aside on the bedside table (such a beautiful thing, a worthy gift in and of itself) and lay back on the bed, settling himself with his left hand behind his head in his favourite position for getting himself off. Rubbing his cock through the silk produced a wash of perfectly lovely sensations and he caught his breath again, squeezing his eyes closed and biting his lip as he took firm hold of his shaft and began to stroke it in earnest, imagining how he would look to his sly and secretive lover if the Cardassian happened to —

— come by tonight, and did he really want to have exhausted himself in advance? The thought gave him serious pause. The gift of the pajamas might have been timed as a signal:  _Tonight I will visit you. Be ready._  And if that was the case he wanted to be in his best possible form, sexually eager and capable of a nice juicy impressive orgasm.

Reluctantly he let go of his heated erection and lay perfectly still, concentrating on his breathing and on calming the fire in his blood, which hadn't gotten the message yet and was still growing. The pajamas, enclosing him as sweetly as an embrace, certainly weren't helping. He got up and took them off again and went to take a sonic shower at high frequency, hoping that the experience would calm him sufficiently that he'd be able to get to sleep without too much tossing and turning. If he had a visitor in the night he'd need all the rest he could get beforehand, after all…

********************************************

To his profound disappointment Garak did not come that night, and the night after that Julian was away from the station on a mission with Major Kira. And he did not come the next night. Nor the next. But on the following day, as they were having their usual lunch (and it took all of Julian's self-control not to ask Garak what the hell he thought he was playing at), the Cardassian made a casual gesture over the tabletop halfway between them, as if flicking a crumb to the floor — and left something behind. When Julian's eyes focussed on it his heart leaped into his throat. It was a tiny fragment of blue silk, the same fabric as the pajamas themselves. 

Garak was looking at him with an attentiveness not entirely in keeping with the light nature of their spoken conversation. His pale eyes flickered to the fabric and back to Julian's face, and Julian, with what he hoped was equal casualness and finesse, reached out as if to brush another bit of food detritus from the tabletop and drew the bright bit of royal blue over to his own side of the table. Garak's smile was briefly incandescent, communicating pride and sexual heat in equal measure, before he resumed a polite expression and returned to the topic at hand — the nature of loyalty in Cardassian literature versus Human literature. Julian kept up with him easily, but his mind was no longer entirely on the conversation.  _Tonight_. Surely it was the only reasonable interpretation of the code? The flame of anticipation that had been burning steadily in his breast shifted residence, settling in parts of his anatomy considerably further south.

All that afternoon, even as he kept a close eye on Ty Kajada in her coma and followed Jadzia's progress on the glial cell biocoding that Rao Vantika might have used to transfer his consciousness into her body, his thoughts kept making little side trips to the distinct possibility that his wait might soon be over.

He was sitting at the Infirmary's main console, scanning Jadzia's latest results while the sensory impression of Garak's kisses ran through the back of his mind, when his mind abruptly ceased to be his altogether.

********************************************

Oh God, he was  _so_  humiliated!

Under Vantika's control he had killed a man — not that he remembered any of it, but it was still his finger that had pulled the trigger. Jadzia and the Commander had assured him that they didn't blame him for what had happened, and he believed them, and their kindness had struck him as an overture of true friendship from them both… but nevertheless he was ashamed that he'd been taken over so easily.

And what had Vantika seen while hitching a ride inside his brain? The truth about his augmented status? Perhaps his new-found attraction to a certain Cardassian tailor? If either of those secrets had been spilled — and for a mercy it looked like neither of them had — Julian's career would have been over in the case of one and jeopardized in the case of the other. Could he honestly be sure that no trace of the Kobliad criminal lingered in his CNS? The thought tormented him all that evening, and when he finally set aside the medical journal PADD he'd been trying to concentrate on since the end of his shift he found himself nervous and exhausted. 

Try as he might he couldn't remember anything about what his body had done under Vantika's influence. Not a single solitary scrap of an image or a sound or even a scent remained. Still feeling miserable, he took a long sonic shower — as if the vibrations could wash away the sense of failure and violation — and pulled on his usual pajamas and went to bed, where he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He slept so soundly that he totally missed the hiss of his bedroom door opening, only half-awakening with a muzzy questioning murmur when he felt a hand come to rest on the small of his back. 

"Doctor." A whisper as silken as the pajamas he'd forgotten to — oh,  _hell_. His head came up off the pillow as he came fully awake with a start, turning to stare back at the sturdy figure standing at his bedside.

"Garak!" He tried to turn over onto his back. The pressure of Garak's hand kept him where he was, on his stomach. "Oh God, I — I'm sorry, I completely forgot we were —"

"No need to apologize," the tailor murmured with one of those unreadable smiles of his, "I understand completely. You've had a very busy day, after all."

Julian was dumbfounded. "You know about —? How? That's  _classified!_ "

"Quark was involved," Garak said, as if that explained everything. And Julian supposed that it did. His hand began to rub slow circles on Julian's back as he settled his hip on the edge of the bed, still speaking in that quiet voice that compelled Julian to listen closely: "I only wanted to see for myself that you're quite unharmed. Would you like me to leave?"

"I…" The stress and shame of the day lingered and he'd never felt less like sex in his life, but he hesitated to say so: Garak might take his refusal as a sign that his attentions weren't welcome when that wasn't the case at all, and he wanted the Cardassian to pay a return visit. "It's not that I don't want to see you, Garak — like this, I mean — but, well, as you said, it's been a very busy day, and —"

"Of course." Still soothing, still rubbing his back. Julian had to admit that it felt good. "But you're so tense — all the muscles in your back are one big knot. Here." He caught the fabric of Julian's pajama top between his fingertips and gave a little tug. "Take this off and I'll see what I can do for you." Then, when Julian hesitated and gave him a questioning look, his smile widened. "Oh, you'd be surprised the odd skills you pick up in the tailoring business. Massage is… a hobby of mine."

"A hobby." Julian raised an eyebrow at him and didn't quite manage to suppress a skeptical expression. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Less talking, my dear, and more disrobing if you please."

After a moment Julian rolled over and sat up and did as he was bidden. Garak took the tunic from him and laid it neatly across the foot of the bed while Julian turned back onto his stomach and settled down, pillowing his head on his arms and trying not to feel unaccountably nervous.  _Why should I be nervous? I've only got a Cardassian spy in my bedroom, about to start applying pressure to my spine while my back's turned. He probably knows at least three different ways to kill me before I could even squeak._  Then the balls of Garak's thumbs dug into the nape of his neck and ran down his back to the waistband of his pajama pants, tracking the hollow on either side of his spinal column, and Julian couldn't hold in a little groan of startled pleasure. It  _did_  feel marvellous; he hadn't realized how tense he really was. "Ohhh, Garak, that's  _amazing_ …"

"Didn't I tell you?" Pressure at the small of his back, little circles that made his toes clench and his breath rush out in a sigh. "Just relax, Julian." His voice had taken on that inflection of soft but clear command that went straight to the root of Julian's brain and took hold of it and filled him with the need to obey, to submit, to please and be pleasured. His heart rate took a leap as he realized that Garak was one hell of a teacher, impressing that response on him so strongly in a session lasting less than ten minutes that now, over two weeks later, it sprang up as if he'd been instructed in the art of surrender only yesterday. He exhaled a long breath and consciously relaxed every muscle he was capable of controlling, and was rewarded with smooth praise: "Yes, very good… just like that. Well done, my dear! Deep breaths, slow and steady…" 

Julian sighed again, his thighs opening as he shifted position slightly, hollowing his back beneath that skilled therapeutic touch. Garak's hands were doing wonderful things as they worked their way slowly up over his latissimus dorsi mucles, probing and locating and unravelling points of tension, sending tiny shivers of white heat down Julian's body. The Cardassian continued to whisper little encouragements while he proceeded over the strands of the trapezius, lightly stimulating nerve clusters that made Julian draw sharp deep breaths of pleasure that bordered on pain, until at last he was once again at the back of Julian's neck, stroking and kneading the now thoroughly loosened muscles with unhurried thoroughness.

At last Julian mustered enough energy for another groan: "Oh  _God!_  That was…" before words failed him. He felt warm and relaxed to the tips of his toes, and he didn't need to see Garak's smile to know that it was there, especially when the Cardassian trailed the edge of one thumb slowly down the line of his spine in a way that made him abruptly and keenly aware that his lack of sexual desire had been banished as effectively as the tightness in his muscles. The general warmth in his body suddenly concentrated itself in his groin: he could feel his penis, trapped between his groin and the mattress, start to stir and lengthen, and when Garak's sly caress reached the waistband of his pajama bottoms his hips pushed up and back quite independent of his own volition, his thighs opening even wider. 

"Well!" Garak sounded smug, and perhaps justifiably so, even as his grip on the nape of Julian's neck tightened, effectively pinning him down. In the space of a heartbeat he'd crossed them both over from a friendly massage into the territory of dominance and submission. His hand slipped down and spread open over Julian's right flank, caressing him possessively. "Am I to gather that you've changed your mind?"

[TO BE CONTINUED…]


	5. Chapter 5

For a couple of seconds Julian couldn't form a coherent reply, but at last he breathed: "I… oh,  _yes_ …"  
  
"Let me see." His right hand slid back and down between Julian's thighs to take the measure of his arousal through his pajamas with a tailor's skilled touch; Julian jerked and bit back a whimper, his cock hardening even more in the circle of Garak's fingers, but the Cardassian's hold on his neck kept him from going very far. "Why, so you have! And from nothing more than an innocent massage!" He sounded as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, downright  _prim_ , in fact, for a man cradling another man's swelling erection in his hand. "Really, Doctor — I know I called you a naughty boy, but this…"  
  
He began to rub it slowly, the heel of his hand nudging Julian's testicles with each stroke, and leaned closer to whisper : "It's positively  _scandalous!_ "  
  
Last time Julian had been caught flat-footed; this time, forewarned, he was prepared to try mixing wordplay with arousal. He closed his eyes and briefly bit his lower lip, marshalling his conversational skills as best he could under the circumstances. "And who —  _oh!_  — who's to blame for that? I didn't —  _ah!_  —" As Garak pinched the tip of his cock, derailing his train of thought. "— I didn't —"  
  
"And whose erection, pray tell, am I holding in my hand?"  
  
After a moment Juilan had to concede: "Mine…"  
  
Another stinging pinch, which didn't seem to be discouraging Julian's prick in the least — quite the opposite, in fact. "Then don't compound your sin with pointless denials, my pretty child. It will only go the worse for you if you try. Now," and he began tracing tiny soothing circles over the punished place with the tip of his index finger, "remind me, what are the rules of our little arrangement?"  
  
"Uh." He wasn't sure if he wanted to avoid another thrill of pain or not, but the minute tightening of Garak's fingers on the back of his neck prompted an obedient answer: "You're allowed to touch me anywhere you like, but I'm not allowed to touch you in return. I have to keep my hands exactly where you put them and accept whatever you choose to give me. And…" A cool rivulet of shame trickled through his core, but it was hot too, so he finished in a whispered rush: "and you like it when I tell you how much I enjoy what you're doing, so I'm allowed to do that much, at least."  
  
"And?" His fingers moved back into pinching position but contented themselves with running lightly up and down over the head.  
  
"And…" Even as wildly aroused as he was, it only took a heartbeat for his eidetic memory to pull up the information. "And you'll never truly harm me, although there may be times when I'm begging you to stop. If I really want out, the safe word is 'latinum'."  
  
"Very good, Julian." The note of praise in his voice made Julian's heart leap with irrational joy. "But you trust me enough not to use that word unless you absolutely have to, don't you?"  
  
He nodded within the Cardassian's dominating grip. "Oh yes! Absolutely!"  
  
" _Good_  boy." A single smooth stroke on Julian's cock and Garak withdrew his hand, crooning reassuringly when Julian emitted a soft whine: "Now now, my darling…" The hand came to rest on Julian's right buttock, tenderly caressing it through the rough blue fabric that covered it. "I did promise you that I'd pay more attention to these during my next visit, didn't I?"  
  
"Y… yes…" He could feel his heartbeat quickening and was amazed at the nature of the trigger.   
  
"Lie down flat," Garak commanded, and Julian obeyed, grateful that his enigmatic paramour had shifted his cock into a position where it wouldn't be forced into a painful sideways or downward orientation when he lay on it. "You know," he remarked as he continued to rub Julian's buttocks, running his hand from one curve to the other in an unhurried manner, "the first time I saw you I thought to myself, 'A bottom that sweet and that pert has no business being trapped inside such a hideous uniform.'"  
  
"But —" The low simmer of heat Garak was setting up made it difficult to formulate a clear thought. "But the first time you saw me, I was sitting down."  
  
"That was the first time  _you_  saw  _me_ ," Garak corrected him, and Julian could hear the mysterious smile in his voice. " _I_  first saw  _you_  two days before that, while you were walking along the Promenade outside my shop. Your full attention was on Lieutenant Dax at the time, which was to my advantage: you never even noticed me in the window, setting up a display and watching your every move."  
  
"I —" He felt absurdly guilty for not paying due attention to a man he hadn't even met yet, and at remembering his passion for someone else while he was lying here being fondled. "I'm sorry, I —"  
  
"Think nothing of it, my dear. After all, we were still perfect strangers at the time. However," and the rubbing became gliding, the sturdy grey fingers moulding themselves to every contour of Julian's gluteal muscles in a way that was somehow much more intimate, "it was at that moment that I said to myself, 'I will have that delicious young man, one day. I will make him gasp, and whimper, and squirm, and moan, and he'll surrender to me willingly because it's in his nature, even if he doesn't realize it himself yet.'" Julian sensed him leaning in a little nearer, his voice falling to a silky murmur: "And you didn't realize it, did you?"  
  
"No." His eyes opened and his breath quickened in his throat, driven by a sudden urge to push Garak off him and leap up, to deny the accusation — but how could he, when Garak's left hand was pinning him down and his cock was burning a hole through the mattress beneath him?   
  
"But you do now." It wasn't a question.  
  
The urge died, overridden by past memories and present arousal and anticipation of the future. He closed his eyes again. "Yes… yes, I do."  
  
"How gratifying!" His right hand began an even more intimate exploration, fingertips running along Julian's gluteal cleft, then pressing into it as Julian's thighs parted a little more, his hips pushing back as much as they could without actually leaving the bed. "Just as I knew you would," he whispered, smooth honeyed words as he slid his fingers up and down the valley, making Julian squirm indeed, "my beautiful, wanton,  _wicked_  boy," and Julian almost levitated off the mattress when Garak's fingers slid up to his coccyx, hitting an unexpectedly sensitive patch of skin just where the cleft melted back into the contours of his lower back. "Now, you'd like me to take off these pajama pants, wouldn't you?"  
  
Julian's mind flew rapidly across a range of possibilities for what Garak was maneuvering him towards — warm caresses on his bare skin, a hot session of spanking, maybe even a finger (or two!) slipped into his virgin anus — but his apprehension wasn't enough to stop him from responding: "…please?"  
  
Garak leaned in the last fifteen or so centimetres to press a fond kiss to Julian's right shoulder blade. "I think," he murmured against the Human's highly sensitized skin, "that I'd rather watch you do it yourself. Not all the way off, mind you — just enough to give me room to work." Then he sat up fully again, his voice taking on an authoritative inflection: "To the mid-thighs, if you please, and not too quickly — a moment like this should be savoured, not rushed through the way you gobble your lunches."  
  
[TO BE CONTINUED…]


	6. Chapter 6

The quality of the silence that followed was expectant, with an undercurrent of menace gleaming beneath it like a razor thinly sheathed in silk — and he hadn't released his controlling hold on the back of Julian's neck. After a moment of waiting to be allowed to sit up, Julian loosened his grip on the pillow and rotated his arms awkwardly, reaching back to hook his thumbs into the waistband of the pajama bottoms and, with what he hoped was the right degree of lingering slowness, strip them down over his hips. He had to hollow his back and hitch his pelvis upward a bit in order to do it, a position that practically presented his ass on a silver platter: he felt utterly, shamefully displayed — and it was all so hot that he could barely stop himself from whimpering yet again.  
  
He could actually feel Garak's gaze on his brown skin as it was revealed centimetre by centimetre; the Cardassian's right hand had come to rest on the back of Julian's right knee, and Julian could feel his fingers tighten fractionally as the blue fabric crested the rise of his buttocks and started to slide down the other side. The waistband of the pants caught briefly on the hard hot length of his cock, forcing him to wiggle a little to work it free, and Garak purred again, this time in inarticulate approval, and  _oh God, I must be blushing down there_ , even though the cool air was raising goosebumps that made him tense even more, and shiver. By the time the waistband was at the point Garak had specified Julian was feeling more naked than he'd ever felt in his life — but he waited, his heart beating rapidly in his throat, and kept his ass elevated in a blatant offering.   
  
"Well done!" Garak said softly after a moment; his hands left the back of Julian's knee and Julian's neck, and Julian's fingers clenched into fists around the material of his pajamas as the Cardassian's cool hands enclosed his waist and ran slowly back over his hips, until they curved around his own hands and, with a deft tug, coaxed them open and guided them back up to the pillow again. He clutched at it blindly, his eyes still closed, surrendering to the sensation of falling. "I knew you'd have a marvellous natural talent for this," Garak was murmuring, and his hands were moving again, tracing the contours of Julian's biceps, then running up to his shoulders and back down, "for giving yourself to me," leisurely down, over Julian's shoulder blades and ribs, making him want to tremble, "for  _needing_  a firm hand."   
  
"Y—" But before he could finish that sigh the caress of Garak's fingertips sliding into the hollow between his external obliques and rectus abdominis sent an unexpected ticklish thrill through him: he caught his breath, trying to bite back the shivery gust of giggles and mostly succeeding. Garak paused in his ministrations, and Julian had barely enough time to realize how much trouble he might be in before those clever grey fingers repeated themselves, making him squirm outright and gasp: "Oh God, Garak, no,  _please_  —"  
  
"I had no idea you were ticklish, my dear."  
  
"I'm —  _ahhaha!_  — I'm not, usually, it's just —  _hmph!_  — oh don't, please—!"  
  
"Well, that's something to keep in mind, certainly." He slid his hands up onto Julian's back with firm soothing pressure, digging his fingertips in just a little in a pointed way that effectively overrode the cascade of ticklishness he'd set in motion. "For later," he promised, and Julian settled down again, as much as he could anyway under the circumstances.  
  
"You wouldn't, would you?" he chattered as Garak's hands started their slow savouring progress down his body again. "Tickle me, I mean? Isn't that rather —"  
  
Quick as a snake, Garak bent and bit him right where his right internal oblique muscle sank into his waist — sharply enough that Julian yelped in protest. "What did I say about a gag?" he muttered, punctuating the threat with a gentler nip.  
  
"I… I'm sorry, I get a bit —" He closed his mouth tightly and confined the rest of his response to a quick nod.   
  
"Better," Garak praised, running his hands down to Julian's hips, shifting down the bed a little to apply another bite to the terminus of the right erector spinae muscle. Then another matching one on the opposite side. Then another, on the point of the gluteus maximus muscle where it attached to the thoracolumbar fascia — this one sharper again, sending a pulse of heat racing down to Julian's groin and almost driving another whimper from his throat. The growl that Garak emitted in response, soft but primal, thrilled him to his core as those strong hands closed around his hips, lifting him up a little further. "Now hold still, darling boy." A laugh, low and dark: "I won't make you bleed, you have my word."  
  
There was definitely a pattern to the biting: Julian had enough presence of mind left to determine that much, and that pattern seemed to follow the ridges that adorned male Cardassian buttocks — which was just fine with him. Although he'd never considered his own ass a particularly erogenous zone before, the attention that Garak was paying to it, lips pressing and sucking, sharp teeth and the stroke of a nimble tongue over the spots that might bruise, was driving him almost out of his mind. He clutched at the thin pillow and tried his best not to squirm, although he completely gave up on fighting the urge to whimper only seconds into the game, and the cries he uttered after particularly intense bites quickly became quite shameless. His cock, hanging free, throbbed and burned and twitched with the fitful tightening of his abdominal muscles — sadly neglected, and soon he was panting: "Please… please, Garak… oh God,  _please…_ "  
  
"Mrm?" A mumble around a mouthful of reddened skin.  
  
"Touch me!" He pushed forward with his hips: only a centimetre or so, but Garak growled more sternly and pulled him back into position again, administering an admonishing nip. "Please, just a — _ohhhhhh…_ " as Garak's right hand closed around him — but did not caress.  
  
The Cardassian raised his head a little, and Julian could hear the roughened quality in his usually silky voice: "Do you promise you won't disgrace yourself again the way you did last time?"  
  
"Oh, oh yes… I promise…"  
  
A slow tight stroke, making Julian tremble. "Do you promise that you'll only let yourself go when I give you permission?"  
  
"I promise… please, just —" Coherence vanished with a whine as Garak's hand began to move, sheathing him in a way that managed to be more wildly exciting than his own hand ever could; he started to push forward into it but Garak's grip became punishing, encircling the base of his cock and pulling him sharply back again.  
  
" _Doctor._ "  
  
"I…" Oh, he was throbbing, burning, hot and dirty and needy, and Garak would give him exactly what he needed — if only he was good. There was a word he could say that would end this and let him finish himself off as quickly as he liked, but it wasn't just release that he craved: it was this, command and control and willingness and surrender, so he breathed miserably against the pillow: "I'm sorry, so sorry — I didn't, I'm a very bad boy, I didn't mean —"  
  
"Bad?" Garak was a chameleon indeed, his tone of voice shifting from disciplinary to affectionate in the space of a single word. " _You?_  Oh, my dear… no!" He leaned up to press a kiss to the hollow at the very tip of Julian's spine, cradling his balls in the palm of his hand for a moment, cupping and squeezing them. "You're the least 'bad' man I know — that I've ever known, I daresay." His breath on the sensitive skin he'd just kissed was making Julian shiver, an effect that only increased when he ran the tip of his tongue down the gluteal cleft to the rise of the buttocks, then whispered again: "Your problem has never been a lack of virtue — your problem is impulsiveness, a fundamental lack of control." Another squeeze of his balls, sharper this time, prompting a little gasp. " _That_  is what I will teach you, if you'll give yourself over to me."  
  
"Yes…" But he was frowning now, feeling shamed in a way that echoed the miseries of the day just past — loss of control, humiliation, a man dead by his hand…  
  
"My poor darling!" Garak's voice, soft as velvet, drew him back to the present moment before the memories could fully break the surface of his mind. "I keep forgetting that you're so young — and that life impresses itself upon you so deeply." His hand slipped forward again, lightly enclosing Julian's cock, stroking it in a manifestly tender way that began to pull Julian out of his disquiet and back into his own flesh. "You have to trust me to know what's best for you, Julian — and you do, don't you?"  
  
"Yes!" Not a second's hesitation in that admission, as foolhardy as it might seem in the cold light of day.  
  
"Yes," Garak repeated almost hypnotically, "and you trust me to instruct you in the ways of both pleasure and pain." He bent his head again and bit the curve of Julian's left buttock, his lips lingering, the teeth within them so sharp that Julian jerked and bit back a pleading gasp. "And I will,  _sivharal_ , my beautiful exquisite boy — if you'll only let yourself come to me, without doubts and without conditions. If you'll only let me have you."  
  
And then it was biting again, and kisses, and a sly serpentine hand teasing him, then gripping him and gliding over him, filling him with dark sensual fire that slowly built to a consuming intensity… on and almost unbearably on, until he was crying low in his throat and writhing shamelessly, all doubts forgotten, clinging desperately to the thin edge of control… until after a seeming eternity Garak finally whispered a sweet command against the small of his back — "Now, my beauty! — and it overflowed, washing him clean as it burst the confines of his skin. His mind blanked out in the white-hot rush, and when he came back to himself he was lying flat on his belly in the warm wetness of his own semen, drawing deep replenishing breaths as Garak, still fully clothed, massaged his waist and his lower back.  
  
"Oh…" he managed to mumble blearily.  
  
"Welcome back." He sounded amused and, Julian fancied, more than a little proud.  
  
"Did I —" He couldn't even seem to raise his head from the pillow to look Garak in the eyes. "Was that better?"  
  
"Much, my dear." He moved his caresses to Julian's sensitized buttocks, which felt as if they were going to be a pattern of bruises come morning, apparently ignoring the way his touch made Julian squirm. "Although that was only a very light session. Never fear: we'll work on increasing your tolerance and endurance in the future."  
  
Julian moaned a weak protest, but he was smiling beneath it all — until a groan of real self-recrimination emerged. "Those lovely pajamas you made me…!" he lamented.  
  
"You'll wear them for me another time," Garak soothed. He paused to lay a cool hand to Julian's cheek, then stroked it back and ran gentle fingers through his hair. "But now it's late, and I have to be at the shop early in the morning to finish that wedding commission we were discussing over lunch. Goodnight, my darling."  
  
"Garak?" But the Cardassian was gone: Julian hadn't heard a single footfall, but he could sense the absence of the presence that had kept him pinned to this bed for the last… how strange, he'd lost track of time. He  _never_  lost track of time. And he could turn over now if he wanted to and clean up the sheet beneath him, but his limbs were so deliciously heavy and the sticky dampness smeared over his belly and chest was the essence of decadence…  
  
He fell asleep almost at once, smiling contentedly, and no thought of Vantika dared creep in to trouble his happy dreams.  
  
[TO BE CONTINUED…]


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning, waking up with a fine crust of dried semen on his stomach and a bottom that subtly ached even before he tried to sit up, Julian found himself amazed at the current state of affairs — an emotion that the actual sight of his ass in the mirror, patterned with bite-marks of varying degrees of redness and more than a few outright bruises, did nothing to dispel, and in fact it added a bit of apprehension to the mix. Framing his buttocks with his own hands and turning slightly to look at them from various angles, he remembered Garak's laughing promise —  _I won't make you bleed, you have my word_  — and wondered just what the hell he'd gotten himself into.  
  
A sadomasochistic relationship? Well, he hadn't been tied up and whipped, but he had to admit that he'd definitely gotten off on being made to accept painful stimulation. A dom/sub relationship? He couldn't really argue with that either; in fact he'd thrown himself into the role once he'd realized what Garak was expecting from him. Neither of those were things he'd have predicted could be part of his sexual personality before coming to this station: he'd always prided himself on being rather the opposite sort of character, a confident aggressive seducer, tender and generous with his partners — but definitely the one on top.   
  
So, what now?   
  
The impressions of Garak's restrained aggression, glowing on his golden skin, told a completely different story. Rubbing the marks, he caught himself enjoying the way they ached and burned, his cock thickening and lifting again at the memory of his lover's seductive voice and merciless teeth and coaxing lips and masterful hands —  
  
— but  _was_  Garak his lover? The thought gave him pause, because although the Cardassian had recently been responsible for two of the most remarkable sexual events of his entire life he just… he couldn't make the word fit. To him, lovers had a degree of emotional intimacy and a degree of sharing of their lives that was entirely absent from his dealings with Garak. Oh, certainly he felt attraction to Garak, and even (if he dared to admit it) fascination… and he was certain that Garak felt something analogous toward him in turn, but what could you say about a man who met you in passing on the Promenade and gave you a smile as polite as he gave to anyone else? Certainly not, "I saw my lover today, unexpectedly, and it made my heart beat faster…"  
  
… but it  _did_  make Julian's heart beat faster. The problem was, he wasn't sure if it made  _Garak's_  heart beat faster. Hell, he didn't even know if the Cardassian had been sporting an erection during their sexual play, and without an answer to a question like that, how could he call Garak anything but an acquaintance?  
  
And yet there were the bite marks on his body, like the indecipherable hieroglyphics of a lost civilization on the wall of a desert citadel, and the even more enigmatic memory of tender caresses burning just beneath his skin. Julian gazed at the bruises for a couple of seconds more, then sighed, gave up on trying to figure the situation out, and dropped his pajama pants and headed to the bathroom for a sonic shower and a nice quick wank. He had to be at the Infirmary in a little over forty-five minutes and he wanted to fit in a big breakfast before he left his quarters: last night's exertions had left him positively ravenous, although he'd really done nothing more strenuous than lie there and let his ass and his cock be played with. The mystery of Garak's behaviour was puzzling, certainly, but it wasn't going anywhere — he had time to mull it over at his leisure, and he was fairly certain that Garak would be back.  
  
And the prospect was quickening his pulse already, as much as he might wish for a bit more personal detachment when it came to such a mysterious and dangerous character as a Cardassian spy.  
  
********************************************  
  
Sure enough, when they met for lunch the following week Garak's outward demeanour would have given no one cause to believe that anything nefarious was going on — well, nothing more than usual, anyway. He chatted, and challenged, and flirted just as he always had, apparently completely ignorant of the fact that the young Human across from him had only lost the last trace of the marks of his teeth two days previously. And Julian chatted and challenged right back — but was very careful  _not_  to flirt, because Garak had specifically said that he wanted to keep their relationship (whatever it actually was) on the down low, and Julian knew that his own technique was rather more flashy than subtle.   
  
Still, he fancied that the air between them burned with unspoken promise, and he waited for some signal — a more salacious turn of phrase, the most fleeting touch of hand to hand — that more was to come. But for three weeks Garak remained the soul of friendliness, at least as he'd defined it to this point, and nothing more. Between lunches Julian's life was very full, including a Wadi game for apparently lethal stakes, the discovery of a possible link to Odo's people, a trip to a planet where the dead were endlessly resurrected and an adventure with Miles O'Brien on Bajor, but always, at the back of his mind, lurked the darkly shining new fact that he was unable to forget: he had been changed somehow, and the man who had changed him had promised to return to test him once more in alchemical fire.  
  
And then, on the fourth week, Garak rose hastily from his lunch to attend to a commission and left a tiny fragment of blue fabric on the tabletop. Julian stared at it as the Cardassian walked away, his barely-touched larish pie entirely forgotten, and desperately hoped that his expression wasn't broadcasting shameless yearning to everyone on the Promenade.   
  
At that moment he made a decision that had been percolating for several days: the time had come to take a more active role in his own seduction.  
  
[TO BE CONTINUED…]


End file.
